Five Years On Episode 1
by Seanchaidh
Summary: Originally written as script & now undergoing conversion to prose to be posted on here, this picks up the story five years after the flag has been raised over Terminal City. Posted in act/scene divisions. Please R&R to help me write episode 2. Max/Alec.
1. Act 1, Scene 1

**Five Years On**

For original script version, go to: findingfeathers . proboards . com / index .cgi ?board=darkangel&action=display&thread=33

Or go to my profile, click on my "Homepage", go to my fanfiction, then Dark Angel, then Five Years On.

**Episode 1**

**Act 1**

**Teaser (Scene 1: Max and Original Cindy's Apartment)**

Max looked at her reflection in the mirror. The five years that had passed since raising the flag over Terminal City barely showed in the room behind her: a few more pieces of furniture, perhaps, a different colour of watered down paint on the walls. Her face showed the same sort of telltale signs: a few more lines starting to show, a shade more maturity covering her features. The first year she'd spent based in TC, keeping a eye on the goings on, sharing her new quarters with Alec. Eventually, the near constant bickering had spilled over to the command centre and ended in an explosive fight that had made her turn tail and return to her old room in Original Cindy's apartment, leaving Mole, Joshua and Logan to keep things ticking over and try to build bridges between the two. It had taken a while, but they had eventually started being civil to one another again.

Logan.

There was a blast from the past.

Max took a deep breath and bit her lip. Thinking about Logan today would just be too painful. She brushed her cold, damp hair out of her eyes and turned away from the mirror. She made her way out of the bathroom and curled up in an armchair that sat near the open window, hugging her knees to her body. The bathroom door closed as Cindy made use of the unused hot water. The room was freezing, as had been the shower Max had just taken but, so far, Cindy hadn't complained. She knew exactly why her girl was going to so much trouble to keep her cool.

By the time Cindy emerged from the shower, the day was starting to warm up, the air flowing through the open window was no longer as cold as Max would have liked and Max herself was rocking herself back and forth on the armchair.

"Boo, you have got to get a hold on this thing!" Cindy sighed, towelling her hair furiously.

"I know, I know," groaned Max. "Just a few more days and it'll be over."

"That ain't what I'm talking about and you know it," scolded Cindy, waggling a finger in Max's direction. "You ain't never gonna fix that just by waiting!"

"One day I will."

Original Cindy threw the towel over her shoulder and made her way over to the armchair, plopping down on the wide arm of the chair and wrapping a fluffy, bath robe clad arm around Max's moving shoulders. Max stopped rocking and let Cindy pull her into a gentle hug.

"No, boo, you won't," Cindy said softly, but firmly. "And one day, you might not have time to. You gotta get with the program and get with the guy."

"No!" Max pulled away from her friend abruptly, getting to her feet and stalking round the room. When she turned back to OC, her eyes were defiant. "That is just not gonna happen!"

"Listen up, boo," Cindy's voice became harder as she too got to her feet. "I know you're still beating yourself up about Logan. It's been over a year now and you're still grieving. But you can't keep blaming yourself for what happened!"

"Can't I?" Max shot back.

"No, you can't," replied Cindy harshly. "It's time you moved on."

"But why him?" Max waved a hand at an empty area of space in the general direction of nothing in particular. "He hasn't moved on."

"Maybe he has and you just haven't noticed," Cindy's voice grew softer for a moment. It broke her heart that she could see the cause of so much pain in her friend's life and yet do nothing to fix it. Max had super-enhanced speed, strength, intelligence and whatever else, but in some areas she could be just as blind and stubborn as all the rest of humanity, whether the genetically modified version or not!

"He hasn't," Max shook her head and slumped back against a nearby wall. "We don't even get on any more."

Original Cindy threw up her hands and laughed a short, frustrated laugh.

"You're trippin', boo!" Cindy chortled. "You guys _never_ got on! Not in the way you and Logan did, anyway. But you're closer to each other than anyone I know," Cindy crossed the distance between them and took both Max's hands in her own, her tone moving from amused to pleading. "Sure, you fight: hell, everyone fights at some point, but you two are champions! But that don't mean you hate each other! Seems to me it's quite the opposite. From where I'm standing, anyhow."

Max sighed and looked up at her friend, the only person she trusted herself to be around at this time of the year. OC's eyes were watching her closely, the hope and worry in them tinged with just a hint of pity. Max sighed again and pulled away, walking over to the open window. She stood with both hands on the sill, letting the slightly warm breeze wash over her, bringing in sounds and scents from the city below. Silence filled the room, letting the street noises flood in and fill the empty space like blood filling the semi-vacuum of a syringe.

"So," said Max slowly, aware of Cindy's pitiful eyes boring into the back of her head. "How come he disappeared for months after Logan died and has barely spoken to me since he got back?"

"How 'bout because he blames himself for what happened as much as you do," offered Cindy gently. "You weren't fully in control of your actions. He was."

The silence returned to the room. Max took a deep breath and stared at the window sill.

"And anyway, Cindy continued, sounding decidedly more desperate now. "It seems to me this "not talkin' to each other" is a two way thing. You blanked him at Crash just last week!"

"He started it!" Max shot back, ignoring the childishness of the statement in her mental hunt for justification.

"Now you know that ain't true, boo," Cindy's voice had gone hard again. Max listened to her friend's footsteps, tracing them across the room behind her towards the telephone. The receiver clicked as Cindy picked it up. "Let me give your boy a call. This might just be the thing that gets you two talking again."

"Yeah, 'cause we all know how well that turned out last time!" Max spat, turning to glare at Original Cindy, waving the phone hopefully. "And he's _not_ my boy!"

Cindy dropped the phone back in it's holder as Max stormed past her and disappeared into her room.

"Fine," she muttered. Well if her girl didn't want her company, there wasn't much point in her staying. Besides, she was pretty sure she could name one or two of the drinkers propping up the bar at Crash, even this early in the day, and if her girl wasn't going to listen to reason, maybe she could attack the problem from the other end. "Well," she called through, trying to make her voice sound as casual as possible. "I'm going to get dressed and head out in search of beer if you insist on stayin' in here and shuttin' yourself away like this."

"Fine!" Max's voice sounded sullenly from the room beyond.

"Fine," OC grinned, sidling off to her own room to find some clothes.

(Roll titles)


	2. Act 1, Scene 2

**(A/N: Thank you everyone who has read, reviewed and added to their alerts and/or favourites list. Please keep reviewing and letting me know what you think.)**

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**Scene 2: Crash**

The warmth of the midday sun on a lazy Saturday shone down on Original Cindy's back, easing the tense muscles that had bunched up there as she worked up the nerve to interfere where she had promised herself she would never interfere. The air grew colder when she stepped into the shadows of the alleyway leading to Crash and she shivered, her pace quickening. It was early in the day for alcohol, but then in these times, who knew what counted as early any more? There were always drinkers in Crash. Especially at the weekends. Some of them literally never left from Friday night to Monday morning!

She pushed at the door and was assaulted by an array of smells from the acrid tang of stale beer and sweat to the mouth-watering aroma of nachos and cheese: one of the few nods Crash made to the lunchtime hours of the day. The sounds of voices, beer glasses, pool and stools scraping on the sticky wooden floor drifted up the stairs, growing in volume as she descended into the throng. Some of the patrons were actually eating with their beer, most weren't. Cindy picked her way past them to the bar and caught the barman's eye, nodding when he waved a beer glass at her.

She turned and surveyed the room. Over at the pool table she spotted Sketchy and a few of the other Jam Pony regulars. Sketchy looked up morosely as his opponent sunk the eight ball. OC wondered how much money he'd had riding on that game when he raised a half hearted hand in her direction and slunk away into the group. She rolled her eyes. Would that boy never learn? She shrugged and went back to her survey of the room. He wasn't with the usual gang. He wasn't chatting up any of the skanks that usually attracted his attentions. That usually only meant one thing.

Cindy turned back to the bar, picking up the beer the barman was just placing before her and passing him the necessary remuneration. As she sipped from the glass, her eyes travelled right, down one side of the bar and round the corner at the end, then left. Then she spotted him. Just the far side of a gaggle of giggling girls trying to catch his eye and ignoring them resolutely. He was staring down into his usual Scotch, watching the ice melt and water down the barely tasted spirit in the glass. She picked up her beer and made her way round the girls, raising an eyebrow at them and placing herself directly between them and their target. A quick glance over her shoulder a second or so later made sure that the girls picked up their drinks and tottered off, in search of a new hottie to hang around.

"So," said Cindy, turning back to Alec, who was now resolutely ignoring her. "Where did you disappear off to this time?"

"Nowhere," was Alec's surly reply.

"Nowhere, huh?" Cindy continued doggedly, watching Alec take a slow sip from his glass as if trying to make a point. "You must be getting real familiar with that place by now."

"I was following up something for a friend, all right," he snapped, slamming the glass down onto the bar so hard the watered down whisky slopped over the side. "Now why don't you go join you other beer buddies over there. I came here for the drink. Not the conversation."

"Well, since my girl ain't much cheerier than you, I came here for both," Cindy put her own glass down now, a sign that she wasn't going anywhere. Not yet. Not until she had what she was here for. "Unfortunately it seems that, wherever I go, I'm surrounded by miserable faces."

"Then try someplace else," was Alec's weary reply.

"What? You ain't even gonna ask why my girl's refusing to leave the apartment?"

"Let me guess," Alec's tone became flippant as he pushed himself up from the bar and turned to face Cindy. "Could be... oh, I don't know... Something to do with the fact that the man she loved, whom she couldn't even _touch_ because our magnificent makers at Manticore had booby trapped her _skin_, the very man whose life she spent _years_ trying save, is dead. And it's all our fault."

"Maybe somethin' like that, yeah," Cindy agreed, letting her voice rise to meet Alec's, whose words had started to betray the less than nonchalant feelings he was trying to mask. "Also somethin' to do with the fact that the one man who might actually understand what she's going through has spent the past year avoiding saying more than two words to her. In fact, boy, I don't think you have even managed that! Plus, it might also have somethin' to do with the fact that she's going through now exactly what she went through then, but now has the memory of what happened next to contend with too!"

A shower of emotions washed across Alec's features in the face of Original Cindy's impromptu rant. She watched him stiffen in defensive readiness, collapse slightly in confusion, then colour in understanding as realisation struck.

"Max is in heat," he stated after a moment's pause.

"And determined to sit this one out if it kills her."

"If she does, it will."

"Then you understand why you gotta go see her."

"Right now," said Alec, turning back to his whisky. "I'd say I was the last person she wants to see.

"Just my opinion, but I'd say you're the _only_ person she might see," Cindy replied, as softly as she could with the ever-present background noise of Crash. "Plus seeing you might be just what she needs to get over this."

"And we all know how well _that_ turned out last time!" Alec quipped, taking a much larger sip this time.

"Funny: that's just what she said," Cindy deadpanned. "Now why don't you go check on her before she wears a hole in my favourite easy chair."

"Even if I go, she won't let me in," Alec shrugged, his tone defeated and dismissive. "Not after what happened last time."

"Boo," said Cindy gently, placing a tentative hand on Alec's tense arm, "Original Cindy is sad to say it, but what happened then ain't gonna happen now."

Alec looked up and glared at her. She held his gaze staring him down until he got the message. He nodded in resignation and stood up, downing the warming whisky and water.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Fine," Smiled Cindy in triumph.

He rolled his eyes and walked away towards the door. Cindy watched his back recede through the lunch time crowd. She turned back to her beer, raised her eyebrows and dipped her head as if to say "let's see how that goes". She lifted her beer and carried it over to the rest of the Jam Pony guys. Sketchy, his earlier defeat at the pool table obviously forgotten, possibly because of the pitcher and half-full tankard in front of him, was seated at a table now, enthusiastically telling an animated story while the rest of the crew, either seated or standing, were gathered around him. Cindy joined them, shooing a lesser member of the gang off of a chair and sitting down.


	3. Act 1, Scene 3

**A/N: Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed so far, including the anonymous reviewer who pointed out Cynthia 'Original Cindy' McEachin for some reason spells her nickname differently to her actual name. A simple "by the way" would have sufficed, though. You didn't have to go to all the trouble of copying and pasting a bunch of information from IMDB to make your point.**

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**Scene 3 : Max and Original Cindy's Apartment and Lobby**

Max sat still huddled on the armchair where Cindy had left her after pulling on her clothes a mere half hour earlier. A knock sounded. Her head snapped up, looking straight at it with an expression of abstract terror. It wasn't Cindy. She wouldn't have knocked. Kendra was out of town with her beloved Mr Multiples. Joshua and Mole had both been given strict orders that she was not to be disturbed. The message had been passed around Terminal City that their glorious leader was ill and would be indisposed for a few days. That left few possibilities.

"Wh-who is it?" Max stuttered, her transgenic senses already answering the question for her.

"It's me, Max. Open the door."

Great, thought Max. The one possibility she had been hoping to avoid was standing on the other side of her door demanding entrance.

"_Really_ not a good time right now, Alec."

"I know exactly what time it is," Alec called back. "Now open up: we need to talk."

Max froze. Her mind worked through the many possibilities facing her at this point. Unlike many problems, Alec wasn't one of the ones you could ignore until he went away. Not in this case anyway. He hadn't spoken to her this much since Logan died. That was one year ago today. Presumably, therefore, that was what he was here to talk about, in one way or another. He might be many other things, but Alec was a soldier. When it came to tactics, he dealt with cause and effect. So either he was here to talk about the cause or the effect.

Max uncurled herself from the easy chair. She padded across the floor, her bare feet quiet on the cold floor, but not so quiet that Alec's amplified senses couldn't pick them up. She heard him stop hammering on the door and start listening. When she reached the door, her hand automatically moved to the handle and she froze again. Talking to Alec she could deal with. Seeing him however? Being in the same room as any man right now was dangerous territory. Being in the same room with Alec? That went way beyond mere dangerous! Dangerous was a walk in the park compared to that!

She dragged her right hand away from the door handle and let it rest on the thin, cheap ply wood of the door itself, leaning forwards to let her head and left hand join her right on the door.

"I'm here," she said. "Now talk."

Alec had listened intently to the faint sounds drifting and reverberating through the flimsy wooden door, more intently than he'd listened to all of the arguments going on in his head over the past year, that was for sure. He sighed and placed his hands on the door, matching the position of Max's hands on the other side. He knew she'd sense them. Even if she couldn't feel the heat of his hands, as he was now starting to feel the heat of hers, she would have heard them and felt the vibration passing through the narrow cavity between the two sheets of wood.

"Open the door, Max." Alec did his best to keep his voice gentle as well as firm.

"Not a good idea," was the reply.

"Why?" Alec swallowed and forced his voice to stay neutral. He knew the answer to his own question all too well. "Because you're in heat? Or is there some other reason why you're eschewing all male company this evening?"

"You know, that's not..."

"Yes, I do," Alec cut her off, his voice rising once again. "Now unless you want this door open permanently, I suggest you let me in!"

Silence fell. Alec waited patiently on the outside of the door, his eyes closed as he listened for signs of movement on the other side of the divide. Eventually, he heard Max sigh in resignation. She would know perfectly well how true his threat was to break down the door if she didn't unlock it. He felt the tiny change in pressure that signified the removal of her hands from the door, and stepped back. He heard a series of clicks from different points of the door frame as chains were removed, then a deeper, louder, final click as the key turned in the lock. Another pause, this time shorter, then the door swung open slightly.

Alec pushed the door open, but Max was nowhere in sight. She was here though. He'd been listening. He could have mimicked every step she had taken. An ordinary human might not have heard the footsteps, even if stealth had been lost in her haste to remove herself from the doorway, but he did. That was fine, though. They needed to talk things through before dealing with the heat problem, not after. He closed the door behind him and leant back on it, sighing and fixing his gaze on the armchair. It didn't take long for Max to realise the futility of her hiding place and emerge into plain sight, but he noted that she kept the armchair between them when she did so.

Max looked at Alec from the far side of the room. She was standing opposite him and as far away from him and the door as it was possible to be in the small, cramped apartment. The armchair was in front of her, but she was free to move either left or right if she needed to. The option of darting past him and out of her own front door in her bare feet and pyjamas hadn't just crossed her mind, it had crossed it, ticked it, danced circles round it and was currently screaming for attention somewhere in the region of her limbic system. She took a deep breath and forced herself to ignore the tiny, but insistent voice.

"Okay, you're inside," she said. "Now talk."

Alec pushed himself up from the door and stood straight, his arms hanging loosely by his sides.

"I'm sorry," he shrugged.

"For what?" Max frowned, confusion succeeding where willpower had failed and shutting off the irritating voice in her head.

"A lot of things," said Alec quietly.

He took a tentative step forward, gauging her reaction. As he had expected, she matched his movement with her own, stepping backward and away from him. His next step took him off to the side, around the edge of the battered old sofa. Again, she matched him, moving a step in the opposite direction.

"Sorry for lots of things," Alec continued, again, stepping round and watching her match his movements as one of his boxing opponents would have in the ring. "Sorry for what's been happening to our people recently. Sorry I wasn't there to help. Sorry I've kept disappearing over the past few months. Sorry I disappeared entirely a year ago. Sorry for what happened between us before I left," he paused, watching the reaction on Max's face. "Sorry for what happened to Logan."

They were just a few meters apart. The distance itself hadn't lessened much, but there were no tables, chairs or doors between them now, just space. Alec stopped. Max's eyes were on the floor, her expression hidden beneath her bowed head and dark curls.

"Say something," said Alec softly.

"I think you should leave now," said Max, her eyes still fixed on the floor. "You've said what you came to say, now go."

"Max," Alec reached out a hand to her then let it fall back to his side. "Max, please: look at me."

Max looked up, her face wet with tears.

"Alec, go! Just go!" Max cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "Why can't you just leave, like you always do?"

"No." Alec shook his head. "I'm done leaving."

He took a step forward. This time she didn't move, she just turned away from him. He wasn't sure which avoidance tactic hurt him more. When she spoke again, her voice had regained some of its previous composure.

"Alec, I need you to go."

"Why?"

"Because I am not going to give in to this again!" Max's voice was determined, stubborn. "I'm going to beat it!"

"It won't go away, Max," Alec stepped forward again, his voice stern. This was a side of Max he could deal with. "Do you really want to spend the rest of you life locked up in this room? How is that any different from being locked up in Manticore?"

"It's different!" Max shouted, whipping round to face him, her hair echoing the movement behind her. "And it will go, eventually!"

"No it won't!" Alec shouted back, taking another step towards her. "It'll kill you and you know it. Why would you put yourself through that?"

When she didn't answer, Alec crossed the remaining gap between them in a blur of movement. She was beginning to turn away from him when he reached her and grabbed her shoulders, turning her back to face him and sliding his hands down her arms to pin them safely to her sides. Her eyes flicked to his face then away, he shook her and her eyes came back to his again. He held her gaze steadily.

"Why?"

"Because every time I do give in, someone gets hurt," Max sobbed. "I might not mean to hurt them, but it still happens."

"You are _not_ going to hurt me," said Alec earnestly. "I know what I'm getting myself into. Neither of us have anyone else that we're going to hurt either. Not any more."

Silence fell. Max's eyes moved across Alec's face, looking for answers she wasn't sure she knew the question to. Alec kept his gaze steady, waiting. Waiting for her to meet his eyes again, to give him a sign. Any kind of sign. When her eyes did come back to his, they were filled with myriad emotions. Fear was there. It was one of the front runners. Guilt too. Sorrow close behind it. Confusion. And finally, like the proverbial remnant of Pandora's Box, there was hope.

That was it. That was all he needed. He pulled her forward, his lips meeting hers insistently. He felt her hands come up to push against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Gradually, slowly, he felt her relax, her hands sliding up further, first around his neck, then into his hair. Finally, she was returning his kisses with as much passion and fervour as him. He smiled despite himself and felt her lips curve into a smile to match his own.

(Scene fades out.)


	4. Act 1, Scene 4

**A/N: Thank you again to everyone who has read and reviewed. As this is being converted from a script, Scene 4 is much shorter than the other scenes. There are other scenes later on that are also little more than a stage direction. I may write them out fully or just add them on to the end of the previous scene. Please let me know which you would prefer.**

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**Scene 4: Max and Original Cindy's Apartment**

Cindy did her best to open the door quietly, even though she knew an alert Max would pick up the sound as clearly as a drum roll. If her plan had worked, though, at least Max shouldn't still be locking herself in and taking cold showers all day. Hopefully, she'd be back to normal. Cindy had stayed out all day to give her plan plenty of time to work. The world and her wife knew those two could be stubborn about things, especially these sorts of things. At least Alec had seemed to be on Cindy's side of the argument.

Everything in the apartment was quiet and still. Had Max left? Max hightailing it out of the apartment to avoid Alec was a possibility Cindy hadn't thought of before. She looked around the silent room, willing it to speak up and explain its emptiness. It was only once she stepped forward and took in the floor on the other side of the sofa that the room finally yielded up its secrets. Alec's jacket lay discarded in a messy heap, right next to the remains of his shirt. Cindy raised an eyebrow at the torn fabric. Well, the plan worked then, she thought.

Shrugging off her own jacket, she made her way quietly to her room, side-stepping various items of discarded clothing on the way, at least as far as Max's door. Outside the curtained doorway she paused, listening. Her ordinary human ears couldn't detect any noise from the other side of the doorway. She raised a hand to the curtain, then stopped, shaking her head. It wasn't her place. They deserved their privacy. She lowered her hand and carried on along the corridor to her room.

She was hanging up her jacket when the first doubts hit her. What if she'd led him in there, then split? What if she'd let him get his guard down, then knocked him out and made a run for it? She'd destroyed his shirt. What if she'd ripped the rest of his clothes too so he couldn't follow her? Cindy shook her head. She was being stupid, trying to give herself reasons to check on her boo when her boo did not need checking on. She waved the thoughts away as if swatting at invisible flies around her head and made her way back to the kitchen, resolutely not looking in the direction of Max's doorway.

Stepping over Alec's discarded belt, Cindy made her way into the kitchen and made herself some coffee. One of the bad points of spending the day with Sketchy and the others was the fact that she had somehow let Sketchy persuade her to read through his latest journalistic offering and for some bizarre reason had promised him she would have it back to him by tomorrow morning. She hadn't been planning on getting caught up in a Jam Pony pool tournament until this time of night at the time though. She had been thinking she might need something to read later if her plan hadn't worked and she was facing another sleepless night looking after Max.

She poured the coffee into her mug and took a sip, breathing in the soothing aromas. She sighed and turned back to her room, kicking the belt out of the way this time. The next item of clothing to kick aside was a boot, its laces still tied. The other boot followed soon after, its slightly tighter laces completely busted. They were big military things. Too big to be Max's, and anyway: Max hadn't been wearing any. Cindy kicked the second boot to the side and rolled her eyes. You'd think the guy would have had the foresight to loosen his laces at least. It's not like he didn't know what to expect!

Cindy paused, thinking back to the arguments between Max and Alec one whole year ago. When Max had heard the news about Logan, she'd turned on Alec. Things had been said then. Horrible, angry things. One of those things had been Max's threat to kill Alec if he ever set foot through her door again.

Oh hell, what if she did?

Cindy hopped over Alec's pants, lying in a crumpled heap by Max's bedroom door, and raised a hand to the curtain. She hesitated slightly, then twitched the curtain aside slightly.

Cindy's shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of Max sleeping peacefully with Alec by her side. She should have known not to listen to her overactive imagination. It was just trying to get her to be nosy. She let the curtain fall back into place and walked quietly back to her own room.


	5. Act 1, Scene 5

**Scene 5: Max and Original Cindy's Apartment**

Cindy sat on the windowsill in the kitchen, looking out at the early morning rain. It had been threatening to rain for days. Storm clouds had built up on the horizon. The air had grown hot and muggy. Finally, in the small hours of the morning, the storm had broken.

The thunder had been loud enough to wake Cindy from the doze she'd fallen into, Sketchy's story still in her hands. The weak, pale light of dawn was filtering through at the time so she'd rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and got up, washing away the fatigue first with a shower and now with a fresh cup of coffee.

Cindy liked watching thunderstorms, as long as they were in the distance. The lightning flashed and she counted the seconds before sound caught up with light and the thunder rolled. Five seconds. Nearly two kilometres away. Close enough to enjoy and far enough not to knock the building a bit further down every time the thunder rumbled. Cindy hugged the cup of coffee to her and looked back down to Sketchy's manuscript. She still had a few pages to go before she could honestly say she'd read every word. It didn't help that she'd read the two pages three times before and still had no idea what they said, but that had just been her need for sleep interfering. She should be fine now.

Two lines later and a welcome interruption entered the room in the form of Alec. He appeared to have been gathering his clothes on his way as he had his boots under his arm and was still fastening his belt buckle when Cindy looked up. He nodded to her, walked over to the sofa and picked up the torn shirt, pulling it over his head and raising an eyebrow at the irredeemable rip in the fabric. He shrugged his shoulders and leant down to put his boots on, knotting the laces of the busted boot in far too many places to ever be a permanent fix.

"How's my girl?" Cindy asked, her face and voice pensive.

"Asleep," was the short reply.

"You leavin' again?"

Alec finished tying his broken boot laces and looked up, sighing.

"I was just gonna go get us some breakfast," he shrugged. "Give her a chance to think things through."

Cindy's eyebrows went up in surprise. She really hadn't been expecting that.

"Oh," she said "I see."

Silence fell once more as Alec turned his attention back to getting dressed. Had untied, unlaced and re-laced his other boot before Cindy had the courage to speak up again.

"So what happened last night?"

"I should have thought that was obvious," Alec replied, without looking up, as he retied the knot in the still whole laces.

"Other than the obvious," said Cindy, rolling her eyes. "Did you two talk?"

"In a manner of speaking," Alec replied, shrugging on his jacket and still avoiding Cindy's gaze.

"Now what in the world does _that_ mean?" Cindy's voice rose a few decibels as frustration began to creep in.

"Yes, we talked," Alec sighed, finally looking up and meeting Cindy's eyes. She could tell the demand for information irritated him. "Then she let me in. Then I talked. She listened. She talked. I listened. I talked. She shouted. I shouted. She shouted. I talked. She shut up. I kissed her. Would you like this much detail on the next bit too?"

"I get you, boo," Cindy grinned, holding up her hands in mock defeat. "Original Cindy does not need _all_ the details. You go get your girl some breakfast. I'll go get her side of the story."

Alec grinned for the first time. He got up and grabbed his coat, headed over to the door and left, turning once to wave to Cindy with a silly grin on his face. She shooed him away with a wave of her hand.

With the door safely closed behind him, Cindy rolled her eyes, shook her head and laughed quietly. She got up. Her coffee, what was left of it, had gone cold. She threw the dregs down the sink and started rinsing out her mug. The tap spluttered and clanked, but she was used to its weird noises. The plumbing in their building had always been less than perfect. She turned it off, frowning at a noise she couldn't place. It was the sound of an engine revving, getting closer. Even at what passed as rush hour nowadays, an engine was a rare thing, and those were mostly bikes. This wasn't.

Cindy put the mug down in the drying rack and walked over the few steps to the window. As her eyes sought out the origin of the sound, she saw a large, dark van driving round the corner at speed. It continued towards the apartment block then turned the corner into the street parallel with the block. Her eyes widened as she watched Alec walking out of the building.

The van swerved towards him with such speed that even his transgenic abilities couldn't stop it ploughing into him, throwing him up, over the vehicle like a rag doll. The brakes came on with a screech as he landed, unmoving, on the road behind the van.

With the van stopped, black clad soldiers issued forth and surrounded Alec's inert body. Cindy watched as a fair haired man exited the vehicle, walked over to the ring of soldiers and passed through them to Alec. He knelt down and checked the unmoving transgenic, nodded, then gave the soldiers a signal. Rising to his feet, he stepped back and stood clear as the soldiers gathered up the prone Alec and bundled him into the back of the van. As the doors swung shut behind them, the fair haired man raised his head and looked up at the apartment block.

For a moment Cindy thought he was looking straight at her and she jumped back from the pane, then she realised he was merely looking up to the windows of Max's apartment. She stepped forward again and looked down, frowning. There was something familiar about that man, but at this distance her ordinary eyes were ill equipped to figure out what. Suddenly, a flash of recognition hit her and she gasped. But surely it couldn't be, could it? He'd been dead for years.

"Hey, what's up?"

Max's voice made Cindy jump. She spun round automatically, her face a picture of shock and horror.

"Huh? What?"

"What is it Cindy?" Max frowned, her voice soft, but steady. "You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

(Cut.)


	6. Act 2, Scenes 1 and 2

**A/N: Thank you 452max and nexus432 for the reviews. I'm sorry for the delay but the problems I'm sure we've all been having with fanfiction kind of put me off writing for a bit, not to mention the fact that I'm not at all happy with the way this is translating to prose. It's like reconstructing the Bayeaux tapestry from a handful of threads! I've added scene 2 in at the end of scene 1 as it is very short and act 2 is only 2 scenes long. I hope you don't mind.**

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**Act 2**

**Scene 1: A Forest**

The wind roared in Max's ears as she ran through the forest. The soldiers were near, she could sense them. They were moving too quietly for an ordinary to notice, but she heard them, smelt them. They were all around her, but out of sight. It went both ways. They knew she was there, but they hadn't pinned her down yet. They were moving quickly and quietly, but they weren't chasing her directly. Not yet. They were still looking for her tracks. They would find them soon: she hadn't been careful enough to avoid leaving any. She had swapped care and invisibility for speed. In these woods, being spotted was inevitable. The only thing that might get her through was beating them to the road and her bike.

A shout went up behind her. They'd found her tracks. They were closer than she'd thought too. Damn. She redoubled her efforts, knowing they would be doing the same. It had taken her three months to track this place down. Three long months of ignoring everything else. She wasn't going to roll over and give up just because her pursuers were a little bit closer than she would have liked. A branch whipped towards her face, catching the mask that covered the lower half of her face. She flicked it away and kept running, her hair streaming out behind her in a long, dark ponytail.

She could hear them getting closer now. They had dropped all semblance of stealth for speed, just as she had. She hurdled over an array of bushes and skidded to a halt. Before her lay a four meter drop down a near vertical cliff. She cast a glance over her shoulder, shrugged and jumped. Landing in a crouch, she heard the soldiers follow her through the bushes, but then stop. Had she made a mistake? Were they human, not Manticore? Only a transgenic could make that jump unhurt. But then only a transgenic could match another transgenic's speed. She raised her head and winced at the sight of boots in front of her. Perhaps she should have looked a bit more before she leapt.

Max rose slowly. The last thing she wanted to do was give them an excuse to shoot her. She was completely surrounded by a semicircle of soldiers below the cliff and the ones that had been chasing her up on top of it. One pair of boots was standing right in front of her, forward from the rest of the troop. Max took in the military clad legs and torso with an observer's eye, her heart sinking as her body rose. Finally she was standing straight, looking right down the barrel of the soldier's gun. She looked along the length of the weapon to the soldier's face, knowing and dreading what she would find there. The mask he was wearing meant that only his eyes were visible, but that was all the confirmation Max needed. If it wasn't him it was his clone.

Max looked steadily into the soldier's eyes. They were eyes she knew so well. She had known them first in her brother, and had watched them close with heart-tearing finality, then found them again in her breeding partner, comrade, friend and everything else he had been to her.

He met her gaze without flinching. No recognition. No emotion. Nothing. Alec had always been better at the Manticore mask than she ever was, but the total lack of movement gave her hope. Maybe he didn't recognise her because he didn't know her. Maybe he wasn't Alec, but another clone. One that, this time, Manticore had wisely kept out of her reach. She sighed, stood to attention and saluted.

"State your designation," barked the oh, so familiar man in front of her

"X5-452, sir!" Max shot back, keeping her eyes dead ahead.

"Secure the prisoner!" This order aimed at the soldiers behind him, even though his eyes never left her face.

Max calmly allowed to soldiers to step forward and pinion her arms behind her back while a third secured her wrists in handcuffs.

"Prisoner secure, sir!" The third man stepped back, his job done.

"Regroup! Return to barracks!" Alec or not, it was becoming obvious to Max that the man in front of her was the one in charge.

"Yes, sir!" The response from the troop was immediate.

In seconds, Max found herself in the middle of a tight group formation, the two soldiers who had taken hold of her arms maintaining their grip and using it to lead her forwards as they began the march back to the barracks. It wasn't exactly how she'd planned getting in there and finding him, but it might still work out. Twenty minutes later Max felt her eyebrows slide up her forehead as she took in the sight of the new Manticore stronghold.

There had always been rumours of training camps, safe houses and secret fortresses being built, but this thing looked like all of them rolled into one. The clearing they had just walked into stretched on for miles. As far as the eye could see in either direction was a two storey high perimeter fence, electrified by the look of things. A ditch on either side made jumping the thing not only difficult but near enough impossible, even for an X5. The buildings on the other side were many and varied. The troop reached the gate in the fence and came to a halt. The man Max hoped was merely a clone of Alec saluted to the guards on the other side of the fence. They returned his salute.

"State your designation and mission," said the taller of the two guards. Max's ears pricked up.

"X5-494. Returning from training operation, sir!"

Max felt her heart sink again.

"Anything to report?"

"Yes, sir," replied the man who was now definitely Alec. "Report successful capture of intruder, sir! Request permission to bring her in for interrogation, sir!"

"Is the prisoner secure?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Permission granted," the guard nodded, then turned to his colleague. "Open the gate."

Despair set in as Max watched the massive gates swing open. Despair turned to apathy as she was led through them. Apathy ignited into anger when she considered the statistical chances of Alec leading the troop that caught her when she was on her way to rescue him. Either it was one heck of a coincidence or somebody at Manticore had a really evil sense of humour.

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**Scene 2: Inside the Barracks**

Max counted the steps between each turning in the maze of corridors she was led through. They had stopped once at the entrance to the concrete building that had been designated Disciplinary Block H to disband the majority of the troop and receive instructions from someone higher up the chain of command. Max didn't know where the order came from. It was handed to Alec in a sealed envelope without a word being spoken. With her still being held between the two soldiers attached to her arms, Alec had turned his back on her to read it. She had no idea what it said.

After 42 steps from the last turning, which was to the right, a door on Max's right side was flung open and she was shoved into the cell. Her wrists were still bound when the door slammed shut behind her. She sat down heavily on the simple pallet attached to the wall. In her concentration, the anger had faded from her. Now, as she had time to consider exactly what had just happened, the shock and despair returned. She had found him. It had taken her three months, but she had certainly found him. The only problem was, he seemed to have absolutely no idea of who she was and, worse, who he was. Whatever PsyOps had done to him, he was completely reindoctrinated. A clean slate. A blank canvas. He wasn't Alec any more. He was X5-494.

(Fade out.)


	7. Act 3, Scenes 1 and 2

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, folks. The plot bunnies deserted me. I know most of this is already written in the script form, but I wasn't happy with how much of the individual characters were coming across in the re-write, so I decided to go back and do some *ahem* research on youtube. No, it wasn't an excuse to watch lots of Jensen Ackles, very often without his shirt and fighting, honest!**

**Anyway: I hope the characters start coming across better now, even though the only canon one at present is Max herself. Any differences to the originals, please attribute to the fact this is five years on and they've all grown up a bit and been through a lot.**

**Feel free to tell me what you're thinking might happen next, as I love to know how predictable or not I'm being, and please do pull me up for any typos or errors in here. It has been ages since I watched the whole two series. Reviews win love and cookies!**

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**Act 3**

**Scene 1: Manticore Barracks**

Max lay on her hard, narrow bed, staring at the ceiling, one knee up and one arm behind her head. She was on the other side of the room this time, with the door behind her head and to the right, instead of the left. Other than that, everything was pretty much a repeat of the last time she'd been stuck in a Manticore cell. Her clothes were the same dull, drab, misery invoking grey t-shirt and camouflage pants. Her friends on the outside probably thought she was dead, with the possible exception of Cindy who would always refuse to give up hope, probably even if a body was dumped in front of her. The guards patrolled with the same soul-crushing regularity. And Alec...

Max's throat tightened. If he turned up at her door and introduced himself as X5-494 and her breeding partner this time, she'd probably laugh in his face. They wouldn't be that stupid though: not after what happened last time. Any contact she would have with 494 now would be pure combat, enemies against each other, if, that is, Manticore allowed her any contact with him at all.

Max swallowed and clenched her teeth together. There would undoubtedly be cameras in this cell, probably right above her head staring down at her. If Manticore was nothing else, it was good at learning from its mistakes. She would be under constant supervision. They probably had a whole team of watchers on the lookout for even the slightest tremors of weakness. A tear for Alec was something she could not afford to shed.

A sudden knock at the door jolted Max out of her reverie. Since when did Manticore knock? She swung herself off the pallet, standing to attention just as the door swung fully open.

Two soldiers marched in, followed by a tall, slim built, grey haired man in a suit. Another soldier followed him, female and unknown to Max but of a similar age.

"X5-452 reporting for duty, sir!" Max fired out, saluting promptly.

"At ease, 452," said the man in the suit, waiting and watching as Max relaxed. "You don't have to salute me either: I'm not an army man," he paused and looked her up and down, watching her face closely when he spoke again. "My name is Professor Johnson. I am a clinical psychologist. Your superiors have asked me to assess your psychological state following your prolonged exposure to the outside world and your recent, apparently voluntary, return to us here at Manticore.

Now firstly, I have a question for you: are you willing to allow this assessment by myself, in the methods I choose to use, or would you rather have your own people do it. Psy-Ops, I believe they're called."

"What methods do you choose to use, sir?" Max asked, keeping her eyes front and her face stubbornly expressionless.

"Now I'm glad you asked me that, 452," said the professor. "I am indeed. It shows me that you're thinking," he leaned back against the edge of the open door. "I use a few standard methods: the usual interviews; a period of unobtrusive observation; and, if necessary, hypnotic regression therapy. All of my findings will, of course, be made available to your commanding officer and, if you wish it, yourself. They will not, however, be made available to anyone else without your, or your C.O.'s, permission. There now: does that sound reasonable?"

The professor watched her keenly while Max thought through her choices, content to begin his observations and let the silence hang.

"I'm not completely comfortable with the idea of hypnosis, sir," Max replied eventually, "but it certainly sounds better than the alternative."

"Good. I'd like you to follow me, then, 452, and we'll make a start," the professor nodded, smiling. As he turned to leave he noticed the female X5 who had followed him in and waved a hand in her direction. "This here is X5-226: she's not Psy-Ops, just a regular X5 like yourself. She's been assigned to show you around this place and, to save any embarrassing questions later, I'll answer two important ones now: yes, she reports to me, and to your C.O.; and yes, she does have the ability to stop you in your tracks should your loyalty and desire to remain here waver," the professor turned back to look Max straight in the eye before continuing: "And I mean that as literally as possible, make no mistake!"

Max nodded her understanding, watching as the professor returned her nod, then turned on his heel and proceeded out the door without a further word. Max followed him, finding X5-226 fall into step beside her when they reached the corridor. Behind her she heard the door to her cell close and the footsteps of the two guards fall into step with her and 226.

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**Scene 2: The Professor's Office**

The professor led the way into a small, but comfortably sized, office with a desk, two armchairs, a sofa, a bookcase, a window and various paraphernalia on the walls. Seating himself in one armchair, he waved a hand, gesturing for Max to take the other one. Silently, she sat down in the other armchair. X5-226 stood to one side as the two guards who had brought up the rear of their small party saluted and stepped outside the door, closing it behind them. Her amplified hearing told Max that they were taking up position on either side of the outside of the door. No interruptions. That was interesting. No chances either. An X5 inside who could take her out, so she was told, and two guards outside who could radio for backup should they need it, or for a perimeter lock down on the off chance she did manage to escape. Just as well she wasn't intending to. At least not now. Not without Alec.

Back inside the office X5-226 stood with her back to the door, her eyes fixed on a point on the opposite wall. It looked like she was ignoring them, but Max knew both herself and the professor were easily within the X5's peripheral vision range. She was watching them both. The professor picked up a clipboard and pen from a small table by his armchair, the movement drawing Max's attention back to him. He cleared his throat.

"Now then, 452, let's get started," said the old man. "First things first: my notes tell me that you have spent a considerable amount of time living as a full member of the Seattle community. Although my notes decline to enlighten me on the subject, common sense tells me that you cannot have done so without adopting a name for yourself. Perhaps you would like to fill in this, possibly deliberate, blank for me?"

"My name is Max Guavera," Max stated simply. "It has been for what is now most of my life, sir."

"And may I call you Max? Or would you prefer me to address you by your designation now that you are back here?"

"Whichever is more comfortable for you, sir," Max kept her voice even and emotionless. "As you say: you are not an army man."

"Then I shall call you Max," the professor scribbled a note on his pad and looked up with a dry smile. "I hope this does not annoy anyone too much."

(Fade out.)


	8. Act 3, Scene 3

**A/N:** **Sorry for the delay folks. I've been rewatching all the old episode on you tube. Mainly to make sure the characters have evolved in line with their progression through the two series, but also to check up on some details for future use.**

**Many thanks to all those who have reviewed this, especially Subb and Amy, who reviewed anonymously, so I can't reply back to them. Thanks guys. Hope you all enjoy the next chapter. Hopefully more soon after this while I'm on a roll!**

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**Scene 3: Barracks Grounds**

After a week of initial psych evaluations, Max was finally allowed out of her cell. Manticore wouldn't go quite so far as to let her out of the cell unguarded, though, and wherever Max went, X5-266 went also.

So far Max had joined in with daily training, been shown the gym and the showers, been taken on a guided tour of the laundry facilities and was now being taken on a guided tour of yet another bland grey corner of the barracks. It wasn't so much that the only colour around her was grey that was depressing: it was the fact that the sheer volume of grey around her seemed to suck the colour out of more or less everything else.

Once again, 226 was her tour guide, personal guard and, most recently, confidante. She had remained mostly silent today, but just yesterday the older girl had begun asking Max questions that made her wonder if the professor wasn't the only psychiatrist trying to analyse her. As the noise of a drill sergeant faded into the background, 226 cleared her throat, a sure indication the questions were about to start again.

"So tell me, 452," she said. "What was it really like out in the "real world"? Meet anyone interesting?"

"Many people," Max shrugged. "Some I've liked. Some I've loathed. And even some..."

"Some what? Some you've loved?" 226 whipped round with a surprisingly girlish look of awe on her face. Max stopped in her tracks, trying to hide the vast mixture of emotions that must be playing across her own visage. "That's dangerous territory, 425. We're soldiers, not humans. We were made to fight, not fall in love. Falling in love just gets people hurt. Emotions cloud your judgement."

"Tell me about it!" Max snorted, trying to cover her confusion at the girl's sudden change of character. Was this the real 226 showing through or was it just another tactic to get her off guard? She decided to play along for now. There couldn't be much Manticore didn't know about her. Especially considering the way they had grabbed Alec.

"Then someone did get hurt?" 226's eyebrows raised. "Tell me: who was he? What happened?"

"This some of your psychoanalysis stuff to report back to the Prof.?" Max asked nonchalantly.

"You could say that," 226 smiled a lopsided grin. "But I guess it's curiosity too."

"Hmm," Max raised an eyebrow of her own. "Well, I guess it'll be in my files somewhere, so I may as well tell you now. It's a bit of a long story though, so why don't we find somewhere more comfortable?"

"I know just the place," smiled 226. "Follow me."

Max shrugged and followed the X5 into yet another of the grey, block shaped buildings. The corridors they passed through were identical and unremarkable, like every other corridor in every other Manticore building. With windowless doors on either side of her, and numerous turns to left and right, Max was almost beginning to lose track of where in the barracks they were. The whole place seemed to have been custom built by Manticore. How long, Max wondered, had they spent building it? More than five years anyway. This place had been on the go long before she had witnessed the demolition of her first home. Perhaps that had been why Renfro hadn't flinched when she'd had to "cauterise the site": she knew there was a backup site waiting.

X5-226 led Max down a set of stairs, through a basement corridor and then stopped by a door. The brickwork around the door betrayed it as a newer addition to the barracks. Pressing a hand to a print scanning panel, 226 pushed the door open and led the way through. Max's eyes flicked over the newer brickwork and additions of the extension building. It was still dark and underground, but, after a few more winding corridors and another flight of stairs, daylight finally became visible. Max frowned as her enhanced hearing picked out the sound of bird song. The two women turned a corner and suddenly the building was more populated. Manticore medical staff in their white coats roamed the open space in front of them and pregnant females passed through from a double door on one side of the small hallway to an identical double door on the opposite side. Max caught a glance out of the windows on that wall and let out a small gasp. Out of the corner of her eye she saw 226 smirk and lead the way to the double doors to the outside.

As soon as the door opened the sound of bird song increased, as did the sound of female voices talking and laughing. Max followed 226 out into the fresh air and broad sunlight. All around them were grassy lawns, flower draped pergolas and archways, raised beds of scented herbs and blooms. The difference from the grey and colourless atmosphere and surroundings of the barracks was staggering. Max was left speechless for quite a while as X5-226 watched her take in the garden.

Once she had got over the initial shock of finding something quite so verdant in the bounds of Manticore, something struck Max as odd. There were no fountains or other water features anywhere to be seen. She frowned, looking this way and that to try and spot them. Everything else was there, so why not those too? Then she spotted and X5 female obviously in her third trimester and mentally kicked herself. Even an X5 might find it difficult to control her bodily functions at the sound of running water when she has a healthy late stage foetus pressing on her bladder.

"Wow!" Max managed eventually. "Manticore never had anything like this when I left!"

"Manticore didn't have to house pregnant females when you left," replied 226 easily. "This is the maternity wing."

Raising a hand to beckon Max to follow her, 226 led them over to a bench under a wisteria covered pergola.

"So how come we're allowed in here?" Max asked, leaning back in the seat, but never fully off her guard.

"All females may at some time use this area. I'm showing you around, remember?" 226 shrugged innocently. "Now, tell me about this man you loved."

"Like I said: it's a long story," Max sighed, sounding wistful. "So, if you're sitting comfortably, I'll begin. Once upon a time, there was a man named Logan..."

(Fade out.)


	9. Act 3, Scene 4

**A/N: Another really short scene, I know. I'm sorry. Once I've finished Episode 1, I'll write Episode 2 as straight chapters and ditch the script thing.**

**Thanks to 452max and nexus432 for reviewing. Cookies and love to both of you, especially for sticking with this all the way so far. :)**

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**Scene 4: Manticore Barracks Maternity Wing**

Hours had passed. Max wasn't sure quite how many, but the sun had certainly moved quite a distance across the sky. At first, she had just been playing along, telling the other female by her side all the things she was at least reasonably sure Manticore already knew. As the story went on, however, she had sunk deeper and deeper into the memory of it all, pouring her heart out to the first innocent bystander she came across, whether that bystander was truly innocent or not.

"And now, he's dead," Max finished, staring blankly at the grass on the other side of the garden. "And I have to live with that and the knowledge that it was all my fault."

"I don't understand," said 266. "What makes it your fault? _He_ allowed _his_ emotions to get in the way: that's what got him killed."

"But he wouldn't have if I hadn't acted as I did."

"That still doesn't make sense," 266 shrugged. "You were in heat. You had a situation that could only be dealt with in one way and you did so. He knew what you were and how it affected you. No emotions were involved, just tactical decisions."

"I know, believe me, I know," Max sat forward, leaning her elbows on her knees and shaking her head. "I've gone over it from just about every possible angle: every argument I can think of. I just can't shake the fact that there was one bad decision that _made_ it my fault."

"And what was that?" 266 asked, ever pressing for more and more details.

"Not so much what," sighed Max, suddenly feeling unutterably tired, "as who... If Logan had walked in to see some random guy by my side," Max shrugged and sat back again. "Well, he would just have made it clear to the guy that it was time for him to leave. Instead, he ended up leaving, himself."

"So... The guy was not a random?"

"Nope. Not even slightly," Max rolled her eyes and leant back into the bench. "I got the feeling that Logan was feeling threatened by him even before that morning: like he was suspicious of something. Then, instead of just causing those fears in the first place, the incident seemed to validate them instead. Confirm them, justify them, whatever. If it had been anybody else that he'd seen..."

"Then who?"

Max looked round at 266 for the first time in their lengthy conversation. Was this girl, this soldier, really interested in her story? Surely all of this was already in her files. Was she deliberately trying to get Max to trust her and open up to her? Or was it some psychoanalytical tactic to make her deal with all the complex issues she had stored up over the course of the past year? Perhaps it was none of those. Perhaps a mixture of all three. Either way, with all the information she already had, this one last piece of the puzzle could hardly do any harm. Max shrugged and shook her head.

"His name," she sighed, "was Alec."

(Cut.)


	10. Act 4

**A/N: Sorry for the delay folks, and thank you for sticking with it so far. This is the last part of episode 1. When I start writing episode 2 it will be as a normal prose piece, not script, so hopefully the chapters will flow better and the characters show through more.**

**Special thanks to nexus432 and 452max for reviewing every chapter, and to those anonymous reviewers, such as !!!, to whom I cannot send individual thank you messages.**

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**Act 4**

**Scene 1 - Manticore Combat Training Areas**

Time passed as it always did in a Manticore barracks: training, scrutiny, more training, more scrutiny. Hand to hand combat, drills, gym, manoeuvres and, just to keep things interesting, the occasional psych or med. exam. There was the usual regularity of the routines, but the faces kept changing. Max found herself never able to talk with any of the other X5's, never left alone with any of them, except 226. Every day she was drilled on hand to hand combat. Every day she faced a different combatant. All except one. The hair was new. The stone cold concentration was new. The tattoo encircling his right bicep was new. Even some of his moves were new. No matter how many new things she counted about him, though, Max saw no-one in front of her on those days other than the same old Alec she had fought with tooth and nail for the past six years. At least, she would have called it tooth and nail at the time. Now it was abundantly clear he had been going easy on her from the start.

Every week without fail, she was faced with the cold, apathetic drone that had once been Alec. The first time she had tried to talk to him, get through to the Alec she hoped was inside, but that idea had been beaten out of her by the drill sergeant. Every time she fought him. Every time she lost. As soon as she thought she'd learned his new moves, another faster, newer, more powerful one would come out of nowhere and land her flat on her back. What was Manticore's plan? It wasn't like she was going to suddenly turn round and overpower her friend. Was it Manticore's idea of a new, sick form of torture? Or did they still not have a clue what all the genetic scribbles appearing periodically on her body meant? Perhaps they really did expect her to develop some new superpower. Or maybe they just wanted to reinforce the reminder of what they could do to her, given the chance by their bosses.

Weeks passed. Slowly but surely, Max found herself growing stronger. Opponents became easier to beat. Alec was finding it tougher to win. Her fights with him were lasting longer and longer. It took six weeks in all to beat him, the last two fights being stopped by the drill sergeant after a marathon six hours in the ring. As the weeks passed, Max found it easier and easier to beat Alec, or 494 as she was beginning to think of him. After ten weeks, she was called to the CO's office.

~XXXX~

**Scene 2 - Manticore Barracks and CO's Office**

Perhaps her shark DNA was being amplified along with everything else, but Max hadn't been able to, or felt the need to, sleep in three days. As a consequence, when, early in the morning, just after sunrise in fact, X5-226 arrived at her cell door with two obvious guards, Max was wide awake and staring at the ceiling. All 226 would say was that she had been ordered to accompany Max to the CO's office. Max followed dutifully down the drab and dreary corridors to the CO's door. It stood out. Where every other door was unremarkable and identical to the one before it, this one was different. It bore a wooden plaque into which the words Commanding Officer were inscribed with a fine chisel and painted standard black. Above the title, a slot stood vacant for a name plate. Whoever this CO was, Max would be getting no clues until she walked in the room, if she was able to pick them up then.

226 knocked sharply at the door and opened it, entering the room and holding the door open for Max to follow. The ever present guards behind her reminded Max that there were limited options, and she followed 226 into the office.

The man sitting behind the solid, practical desk that took up most of one side of the room was a standard, stereotypical army male. Tall, even sitting down, and broad, his stationary neatly lined up in front of him, an inbox on one side of the desk, outbox on the other and open file right in front of him. Max reflected on how like his desk he was: solid, practical and taking up most of the space allotted to him. He finished reading the report, or at least appearing to read it, closed the file and looked up.

"X5-226 reporting, sir!" 226 stood to attention and saluted her CO.

"X5-452 reporting, sir!" Max did likewise, but noted that the two guards behind her remained silent.

"At ease," said the CO, his dark eyes studying the rogue enigma that Manticore, in its wisdom, had designated X5-452.

Both female X5's relaxed into the familiar "at ease" stance, but Max was still aware of the unmoving guards behind her. She focussed on the CO in front of her. He must be what? Mid forties? Dark hair going grey at the temples. Cut short like an old army buzz cut. Dark eyes, at least as dark as her own, but unemotional. Blank. Scar, down the left side of his face from temple to cheek. Old. Permanent. Hands large and weathered. Battle hardened? Or what, though? A movement from one of those hands made Max focus her attention back on the CO's face.

"X5-452," he began, watching her face with those fathomless eyes. "I have here a report that tells me you were successful in a training session of hand to hand combat recently."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Max replied, with the military precision they had spent so long trying to instil in her at Manticore.

"Do you know the X5 who was your opponent?"

"I believe it was X5-494, sir!"

"Indeed," the CO nodded and shifted in his chair, leaning his weight on one elbow. "Tell me, 452: have you ever met 494 in the outside world?"

"I believe I knew his twin, X5-493, sir!" Max answered, truthfully.

The CO glanced over to 226, then got up and walked slowly round to the other side of the desk, keeping his eyes fixed on Max all the while. He stopped and leant back against the side of the desk.

"X5-493 died over six years ago, 452. I know you were there at the time," he intoned solemnly. Max could feel his stare burning on her face as he scrutinised her for any trace of emotional response. When he spoke again, he leant forward, caught her gaze and held it. "I will ask you again, 452: have you ever met 494 outside of Manticore?"

Silence reigned as Max considered her options. True, she had told 266 part of the story of her and Alec, but she had never identified him as 494 or even as Manticore. On the other hand, she didn't know what Manticore itself already knew of her life. They had certainly known where to find Alec.

"Yes, sir," Max replied, more slowly this time.

"Now we're getting somewhere," said the CO, leaning back again. "Now I want you to tell me what you know about X5-494, 452. I want to know how you met, how you knew each other in the civilian world, and how you last parted company. Be warned," he added, with a glance over at 226, "I will know if you are lying to me."

"I first met X5-494 six years ago, when I was brought back to Manticore," Max began, mentally shrugging. She didn't know what they knew and nothing she told them now could hurt her that much. "He was assigned to me as a breeding partner. We met again after the barracks were destroyed and he helped other X-series soldiers to survive in the civilian world. He took on a job as a courier at Jam Pony, where I worked with him for about a year. He helped in the setting up of the Mutant Sector in Seattle and I saw him fairly frequently up until about 18 months ago. After that I saw less of him. The last time I saw him was nearly four months ago, until I returned here.

"Tell me, 452," the CO began, folding his arms, "how did you actually manage to return "here"? These barracks are over 400 miles from both the previous Manticore holdings and Seattle. Our missions over the past five years have only very rarely extended beyond the limits of our own grounds, and almost never into any large cities. We have learned from our previous mistakes and covered out tracks excellently. There should have been nothing to guide you to us. This is, at least partly, deliberate: you have a track record of expensive repairs attached to your file."

That question at least wasn't a surprise: Max had been waiting on someone asking how she had found them since the day she arrived!

"I don't know, sir," she dared a physical shrug. "I was following a hunch. I guess I just got lucky."

The CO snorted and made his way back around the desk.

"How aware are you of your abilities, 452?"

"Always discovering new ones, sir," Max replied, doing her best to sound please about it.

That line of question did surprise her slightly. Not by it's presence, though, but by the fact it had come up quite so early in conversation. Most of the Manticore staff she had met so far had been remarkably longwinded when it came to getting to the point. That was two pointed questions in a row. Now all she had to do was work out where they were pointing. Whether he noticed her surprise or not, the CO nodded and carried on.

"Were you aware, for example," he said, "that an X5 female is able to postpone a pregnancy, from the day of implantation, for up to 6 months?"

"No, sir," Max stilled. That one was news to her, and she didn't like where those questions now seemed to be pointing.

"We gave you a full medical exam when you came in here, 452," the CO carried on, regardless, sitting back down in his leather chair and clasping his hands in front of him. "That exam indicated that you were not pregnant, however, it would have indicated the same had you been suppressing a pregnancy. Being aware of this, and of the circumstances of X5-494's return to us, we took the liberty of adding to your food a certain hormone. This hormone inhibits your ability to hold a pregnancy in stasis."

"Are you saying I'm pregnant, sir?" The question in Max's voice was both real and obvious. Was she pregnant? Could that be possible? But surely she would know?

"It's a funny thing, 452," said the CO, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, looking almost triumphant at her state of confusion. "Perhaps your creators meant to do it, perhaps it's just a side effect. Unlike many of your more recently developed abilities, however, this one is effective across all female X5s. As an X5 pregnancy enters its fourth week, or third after reactivation from stasis, the mother experiences a number of subtle physiological changes. She gets stronger, faster and her healing ability is vastly accelerated. These improvements are apparently intended to protect the foetus during the most vulnerable stage of pregnancy. The changes, however, only last for the first two trimesters: once the pregnancy reaches its third trimester, should the mother be placed under any undue stress, she will simply go into immediate labour."

"As fascinating as this is, sir," said Max, pulling herself together under the sting of the man's smug explanations. Explanations that were sounding all too familiar. "I don't see how it answers my question."

"Do you know why X5-494 was chosen as your breeding partner, 452?"

Great, thought Max: now he decides to talk his way round the houses, just like all the rest. Just another mind game. Just another day in the madhouse.

"No, sir," Max replied patiently.

"It was because he is the strongest, fastest and most intelligent of the male X5s, as you are of the females. No X5 should be able to beat him in hand to hand combat," the CO leaned forward in his chair again. "Not even you," he said. "Not without a little extra help..."

(Fade out.)

(End of Episode 1.)


End file.
